


Is it really lost if you don't notice?

by msraven



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Get Together, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint leaves for a mission with his new handler.  Coulson isn't pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is it really lost if you don't notice?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raiining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/gifts).



> A Valentine's Day gift for [raiining](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining) who asked for possessive!Phil or misunderstandings and get-together C/C. (I think I managed to fit a little of all three in.)

Clints leaves for a two week op near the end of Coulson’s recovery and comes back to find himself replaced by Captain America. It’s not unexpected. Clint’s entire life is filled with rejection by people he cares about. He never really expected his handler to be any different. It stings—this one hurting more than the others before it—but Clint has long ago trained himself to stow the hurt away and move on. He couldn’t have survived this long otherwise.

So he agrees to Fury’s suggestion to take Ramirez on as his new SHIELD handler and life moves on. Clint misses spending time with Coulson, misses their easy rapport and the way they so effortlessly drew laughter out of one another, but he cares enough about his former handler to wish him only the best and you don’t get any better than Steve Rogers.

Clint isn’t, however, a glutton for punishment. He makes a point of not being around whenever Steve and Coulson are hanging out in the common areas of the tower. He takes on several junior agents to train to keep him busy and strikes up a fast friendship with Bruce once they discover their common interest in cooking. Natasha—Clint’s one constant—is the only person that notices the change. She allows Clint to spend one night curled mournfully silent in her arms and they never speak of it again. 

It’s Bruce who is keeping Clint company on the Hellicarrier deck one afternoon when a Quinjet lands and two men step out, deep in conversation. Clint has kept his back turned toward the jet and doesn’t see Coulson’s frown when he notices the equipment stacked neatly at Hawkeye’s feet. Coulson makes a distracted motion for Steve to continue without him and walks over to Clint and Bruce.

“I swear they’re awesome,” Clint is saying to Bruce. “Coconut and pineapple scones may sound odd, but I have a great recipe. I’ll make them when I get back.”

“Going somewhere Barton?” Coulson asks.

“Oh, hey Coulson,” Clint says, turning in surprise toward the senior agent. “Uh...yeah. Headed out to Azerbaijan for a few weeks. Jenkins and Taylor are on call for the Avengers while I’m out - paperwork’s already on your desk.”

“It’s customary for handlers to be informed in advance when their assets are assigned to an op,” Coulson says coolly.

Clint frowns in confusion. “It’s a SHIELD only op. Ramirez is going on the op with me.”

“What does this have to do with Agent Ramirez?” 

“He’s my handler, has been for months,” Clint explains, fighting the bitterness that’s rising up inside him. He knows that Coulson, since coming back on duty, has walked Steve meticulously through every step in the process of making the Captain a full SHIELD agent. That Coulson hasn’t even bothered to check into Clint’s status feels like a hot poker being stabbed repeatedly into his gut. Clint sees Bruce move in his peripheral vision—standing closer and slightly behind the archer in silent support—and Clint tries to channel the calm which normally radiates from the scientist.

“That’s impossible,” Coulson protests. “I did not approve a transfer.”

“You were incapacitated at the time. Look sir, it’s okay. You’ve made your token protest and it’s appreciated, but we both know the move is past due. You were never supposed to be my permanent handler in the first place.”

Clint had seen the paperwork in HR with Coulson still listed as his temporary handler after all these years. He’d taken it as a sign that the transfer was the right thing to do.

“ _Token_ protest?” Coulson asks and Clint is taken aback at the restrained anger in the senior agent’s voice. “What the hell do you—”

“Barton!” Ramirez calls out from across the deck and Clint automatically bends down to grab his gear. He can’t look at Coulson when he straightens, muttering a general “see you later” before jogging after the rest of the SHIELD team. Clint systematically puts all thoughts of Coulson out of his head as he climbs into the waiting helicopter. This op is going to be tricky enough without the added distraction.

  
~^~

  


Clint surfaces sluggishly—one of the reasons why he hates being sedated—his brain feeling slow inside his head. He thinks he hears voices and tries to remember what the hell happened. He has vague memories of the op going pear-shaped, yelling at Ramirez to drive while Clint jumped on top of the truck to cover their escape, and then nothing.

“What the hell were you thinking giving Hawkeye to a green handler?!” Coulson’s voice yells through the haze. “How dare you move him out from under me in the first place? While I was still recovering? That’s pretty low even for you.”

“You had a lot on your hands,” Fury replies calmly, almost sedate in comparison to Coulson’s rage. “Ramirez has promise and, as director, I have freedom to move my agents as I see fit.”

“Yeah? Well that promise almost got them both killed. Hawkeye is _my_ asset. Try something like this again and we’re gone.”

“And you’re sure he’d go with you?” 

“Without a doubt,” Coulson threatens confidently. “Don’t pretend you're not aware just where Clint’s loyalties really lie.”

“Oh, I know,” Fury replies. “I’m just surprised you do.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

_Shit._ Clint recognizes the edge to Coulson’s voice and fights harder against the sedation. It would not be good for Coulson’s career if he punched the SHIELD director in the face.

“Sir?” Clint croaks out. There’s a rustle of movement and Coulson is immediately at Clint’s side, holding his hand. 

“Hey,” Coulson says gently, all trace of his earlier anger gone. “How do you feel, agent?”

Clint tries to smile even though his entire body, face included, feels like one huge bruise. “Did you catch the number of the bus that hit me, sir?”

“It wasn’t a bus so much as a truck careening off a cliff,” Coulson responds.

“Shit! Is everyone else okay?” He tries to look around Coulson, searching for any sign of the team members that had been inside the truck.

“The rest of the team is fine. Nothing more than a few scrapes here and there, except for you. Have we learned our lesson about riding _inside_ moving vehicles?”

“Yes, sir,” Clint replies and unconsciously leans toward the fingers carding through his hair, only to wince when his battered body protests. 

Coulson makes a motion with his hand and Clint knows without looking that the nurse is injecting something new into his IV. His eyes slip closed without his control and Clint struggles to stay awake. 

“Sleep, Clint. We’ll talk more when you’re better.” 

Clint doesn’t really have a choice but to follow the order.

  
~^~

  


There are more raised voices when Clint next wakes up, sounding a little farther away this time, as if they're trying not to disturb him.

“We have the right to question your intentions, Phil,” Clint hears Natasha says. “He’s been hurt enough.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Coulson asks in response.

“You abandoned him,” Bruce replies quietly, but no less scathingly. “I may not have known him for very long, but even I could see how much he was hurting inside. He doesn’t need you coming back into his life only to walk away again.”

“I never left his life,” Coulson protests.

“Oh really? When was the last time you spent any time together?” Natasha counters. “You didn’t even know he’d switched handlers and you’ve been back on active duty for over a month.”

“I’ve talked to Fury about his meddling. It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s not the point,” Natasha sighs in frustration.

“Then what is the point?” Phil asks, sounding equally frustrated.

“He thinks you’ve replaced him with Steve,” Bruce responds, surprising Clint since it’s not something they’ve discussed. 

“The idiot’s actually happy for you,” Natasha adds.

“What? I didn’t… I would _never_... Steve needed help.” There’s a long pause before Phil continues in a smaller voice, “I never intended to set Clint aside.”

“Well you did,” Natasha replies, accusation heavy in her voice. “But it’s more than that.”

There's another pause and Clint can imagine the silent conversation Bruce and Natasha must be having.

“Clint spent every waking moment at your bedside when you were in the hospital,” Bruce finally says. “He never left your side during your initial recovery. He even slept on the floor outside your bedroom after you moved into the Tower. Didn’t you ever wonder how he was always there to help you out of bed or into the bathroom? That Clint was always the one to give you your meds and made sure you had food to keep it down? Didn’t you ever wonder why?”

“I...”

“We’re his friends, Phil, and we think you’re at least his friend too,” Natasha says gently before her voice goes hard and unyielding. “But as his friends, we’ll also protect him—from himself as well as you. So we’re asking you now. What exactly do you want from him?”

Clint doesn't want to hear the rest of this conversation, doesn’t want to hear Coulson admit he no longer wants Clint in his life. He twists in the bed, knowing the sudden movement will hurt, causing his heart rate to jump, and set off the warning alarms. There’s a flurry of activity as nurses and doctors rush in to check on Clint. He settles back against the bed as the nurses give him another dose of pain medication. He meets Natasha’s eyes when she comes into view and begs silently for her to understand that some things are better left unsaid. Clint waits for her nod of acknowledgement before he closes his eyes and sleeps.

  
~^~

  


Thankfully, only the steady beating of his heart monitor greets Clint when the latest dose of sedatives wear off.

“I know you’re awake,” Coulson says from next to his bed and Clint forces his eyes open. Coulson's eyes are full of reproach as they meet Clint’s. “You tore a few stitches earlier. Don't do that again. Promise me you won't hurt hurt yourself just to get out of conversations.”

Clint only shrugs and struggles to sit up. Coulson helps him adjust the bed to a sitting position and Clint is glad to feel more soreness than pain, which means that there's nothing severely broken. He takes several gulps of the water Coulson hands him before giving it back.

“Feeling much better, sir,” Clint says while looking at his feet. “No need for you to stay.”

“Clint...”

“No, really, sir. I understand.” Clint forces himself to look over at Coulson, who looks pained. “It’s okay. I never expected… you have a lot of responsibilities. I apologize for being too chicken-shit to tell you about Ramirez in person. He really is a decent handler. Don’t feel like you have to save me from him or anything.” Clint swallows and grits out a smile before continuing. “And Steve… you and Steve… I’m happy for you. You deserve the best, sir.”

“Jesus, Clint. Will you please shut up and let me talk?”

Clint closes his mouth, but Coulson doesn’t say anything and just stares at him, blue eyes stormy with inner turmoil. Clint starts to turn away, but Coulson grabs his chin and keeps him in place.

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out,” Coulson orders. “I know I don't have the right to ask anything of you, but I… I’m sorry, Clint. I took you— _us_ —for granted. You’ve been such a big part of my life for so long that it never occurred to me that I could lose you, that you could think I’d _want_ to lose you. I’m sorry I let my fanboy tendencies push you away. I don’t ever want you to think that you’re anything but the most important thing in my life.”

“I… I don’t understand. You and Steve...”

“There is no me and Steve.” Phil moves his hand to cup Clint’s cheek. “For starters, he’s straight, and even if he wasn’t, we could never be more than friends because I’m in love with you.”

Clint’s jaw falls open and he’s seriously starting to doubt whether he’s really awake.

“I know it’s a lot to take in at once and I’m horrible for being too scared to act on it before, but I _do_ love you. Have been in love with you for years. I think—I hope—you have similar feelings for me if what Bruce and Natasha tells me is true.”

“I… I can’t…” Clint’s brain can’t process, can’t believe he’s being handed everything he’s ever wanted, no matter how much his heart is aching for it to be true. “You don’t… you can’t… not with me.”

“I can and I do… with nobody but you,” Phil responds, moving his other hand so that he’s cradling both sides of Clint’s face. “We can take it slow, let you get used to the idea.”

“Slow?” Clint asks, panic subsiding, but still disbelieving of what Phil is telling him.

“Slow.” Phil smiles and Clint’s eyes drop to his lips before moving back to his eyes, licking his own lips unconsciously. He watches, enthralled, as Phil’s eyes follow the flick of tongue and darken in response.

“May I?” 

Clint nods and Phil moves forward to kiss him. The first kiss is small, tentative, but it transitions smoothly into another and another. Clint moves to press closer, but a sudden pain in his back reminds him that he has fresh stitches that don’t appreciate being pulled on.

“Ow! Fuck.” Clint falls back against the bed as Phil lets go. He starts to move away, but Clint quickly grabs Phil's hand to keep him close. “Slow may be a good idea,” Clint agrees with a smirk. “At least for another few hours until I’m out of this bed.”

Phil gives him another smile and brushes a lock of hair away from Clint’s forehead. “There's the Clint I know. I didn't lose you after all.”

Clint blushes, but doesn’t look away from Phil’s loving gaze. It’s going to take some time to get used to this new side of Phil that he’s finally letting Clint see, and it will probably take even more time to let Phil see that same side of Clint. For once, Clint is confident that they’ll get there, one small step at a time.

After all, every discovery is worth the journey.

  
~ _fin_ ~


End file.
